Of Hot Chocolate and Sweaters
by Ebianna
Summary: Caitlin Snow just wants to get warm. Barry Allen is very curious.


**Disclaimer: **None of the characters or the franchise of _The Flash _belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for a little while. I'll put them back in mint condition, I promise!

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><p><strong>::Of Hot Chocolate and Sweaters::<strong>

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><p>She's on her fourth large cup of hot chocolate, but unable to enjoy the soothing beverage entirely due to the searing gaze focused steadily on the side of her face.<p>

It's distracting. And becoming increasingly annoying.

She presses her slender fingers against her glass mug even tighter, making her knuckles turn white. Despite the fact that her brain rationally tells her the steaming hot mug should be scalding her hands- even if only mildly -Caitlin finds that, instead, she revels in the heat.

As of late, she finds herself craving more of it, on and off, at the oddest of times.

But, that is neither here nor there. Right now, she has something else to address. Sighing into her mug, Caitlin reluctantly turns her chair around to face the tall, lanky young man standing in the threshold of her small lab office.

Barry Allen, the new bane of her existence. Why isn't she surprised?

More often than not, it seems that wherever or whenever she turns around, he's suddenly there, too. Probably because she's always breathing down his neck to check in with her regarding his health and vitals, and he doesn't want to get on her bad side.

Ah, well.

She'd feel bad about it... but she knows if Allen doesn't have someone over his shoulder keeping him in check then he's more liable to hurt _himself _than he is to help others. She's on _his _side, all things considered. She... just has an odd way of showing it.

She keeps her face passive, only allowing one eyebrow to raise in question at his presence.

Wasn't he supposed to be off with Cisco doing... whatever it is that young, easily impressionable young men did these days?

"Did you need something?" she asks.

Instead of answering right away, Barry glances around her office, his face scrunching up into one of confusion. She watches as he takes a step further in, and then another. He then stops smack dab in the middle space between her desk and the door, and shoves his hands into his pants pockets.

Finally looking back at her, he tilts his head ever so slightly sideways in question.

"Aren't you hot?" he blurts out, apropos of nothing.

The randomness of his question leaves Caitlin's mind blank, and she finds that all she is capable of doing is holding her mug closer to her chest and blinking confusedly at the young, impulsive meta-human.

"Um." Caitlin responds intelligently. Seeming to realize the words coming out of his mouth, Barry's eyes widen and he pulls his hands out of his pockets to hold them up in a surrendering fashion.

"That... uh, came out wrong." He backpeddles. "I mean, of _course _you're hot- _look_ at you-"

A sputter tears from Caitlin's throat, and she has to hastily put her mug on the desk to avoid spilling it accidentally. Her eyes catch Barry's and she watches, somewhat bemusedly, as he claps his hand to his forehead at his newest blunder.

"Wait. No." He squeezes his eyes shut, and the young science prodigy wonders if Barry's wishing that he had the gift to make himself disappear along with his super speed. "That came out wrong... _again_."

"What I _meant _is that... well," Barry licks his lips, opens his eyes, and starts again. "You look hot because you're wearing a turtle neck, and it's really warm in here. Like... _really _warm. I noticed you've been wearing sweaters the last few days. You aren't catching a cold, are you?"

His eyes dart to the steaming hot chocolate, before returning to regard her. Something flares in his green-gray eyes, something she cannot make or read. Almost like he knows something, or is becoming suspicious.

For some unfanthomable reason, Caitlin squirms in her chair, feeling decidely unsettled. She lowers her gaze to the rim of her mug.

"I'm quite comfortable, thank you." She tells him simply. Softly. And if it isn't _quite _the truth, what does it matter? She is responsible for _his_ wellbeing- not the other way around.

She likes the way things are, thank you very much.

"You sure?" Barry insists, and Caitlin wants to sigh. She's only _really _gotten to know the young man the last two months or so (not counting the nine months prior with him being in a _coma_), and she's quickly realizing that beneath his boyish charm and infuriating obsession with playing a hero, lies a streak of stubborn in him that surprises her.

And, sometimes when she's really being honest with herself, scares her.

The last man she was close to had been stubborn in his own right, and that was how he'd slipped past her barriers.

"- just worried about you." Barry's voice is saying. Caitlin blinks, realizing belatedly that she's zoned out and missed what he was talking about. Barry watches her, waiting for her response.

Not wanting to show her inattention, Caitlin shuffles to her feet. Her cheeks heat up, and she hopes she can play off her fluster, as she moves to the wall where her coat is hanging up on the rack. It's late anyway- a good time to close down and go home.

"You aren't going to answer my question?" Barry inquires, pouting slightly. He watches her move back to her desk to pull her purse from a side drawer.

"Why are you here?" Caitlin returns abruptly, not wanting to be the focus of his attention any longer than is necessary. "I thought you and Cisco had plans?"

"We do," Barry replies with a shrug of his shoulder. "He had to come back to get something, and I saw your light on and thought you could use a little company while he fetched his gadgets."

"Right," Caitlin licks her lips, suddenly at a loss for what to say to keep the conversation going. Absent-mindedly, she rubs her hands together and cannot quite supress the shiver that rolls up her spine. A frown wrinkles Barry's brow, and without thinking he steps towards Caitlin, reaching out and rubbing his hands up and down her arms to help provide friction and warmth.

When Caitlin pulls back from his contact, his hand accidentally brushes against her naked wrist.

A deep, delicious heat races up the entire length of her arm at the contact of his skin on hers, and as fast as it hits her, it disappears. Instantly in its wake is a frightening chill, nearly painful, that causes goosebumps to break out along her skin.

A whimper slips from her throat without her permission and she sees a flicker of worry lighting up Barry's eyes.

"Cait-" he starts. He mindlessly steps closer to her, his chest nearly brushing hers and she finds that she has to tilt her head up to see him properly, her nose nearly brushing against his-

-and goodness he's so _warm_-

"I have to go," she cuts her thoughts off by speaking aloud, pulling her coat on with trembling hands and sidestepping him. She makes it just past the door, when a soft breeze ruffles her long hair and she stumbles to see Barry suddenly in front of her, blocking her way.

"Wait, I'm sorry if-" Barry starts to apologize, but Caitlin impatiently waves him off.

"You haven't done anything wrong," she says, and then adds after a moment, "_this time_."

A part of her feels accomplished when a sheepish grin graces Barry's lips, but then he is becoming serious again and a flare of panic ignites just behind the confines of Caitlin's ribs.

She's never been good at being the object of concern of others. No reason to start now.

"You and Cisco enjoy your evening. I'll see you later, okay?" And the undercurrent of steel in her voice- mixed with a barely concealed plea -hints that whatever Barry is insistant upon, he needs to let it be.

For once, the man seems to actually catch a clue. He takes a step back, nodding briefly at her. The searing look in his eyes do not abate in the least, but the smile that finds his lips is calm and reassuring.

"See you later," he says softly. Caitlin hurries past him, ducking her head down slightly and slipping her hands into her coat pockets as she moves. She can feel his gaze on her back as she all but sprints to the promise of solitude and seclusion of home.

But as she rounds the corner and out of his sight, she takes deep breath.

The heat from his physical contact is all but trace memory, and now she finds herself feeling colder than ever.

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><p><strong>END.<strong>


End file.
